


but now there will be no mistaking, the levees are breaking

by notthebigspoon



Series: Mystery in the Making [10]
Category: Baseball RPF, White Collar
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-22
Updated: 2012-08-22
Packaged: 2017-11-12 15:46:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,680
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/492921
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notthebigspoon/pseuds/notthebigspoon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>New York is home for Neal. He missed everything about it but the anklet and the radius. He even missed his job at the FBI. But now that he has it back, all he can think about is how desperately he misses San Francisco and his favorite starting pitcher. Peter's tendency to stick his foot in his mouth only makes things more difficult.</p><p>Title taken from The Little Things Give You Away by Linkin Park.</p>
            </blockquote>





	but now there will be no mistaking, the levees are breaking

Neal missed New York. He missed June and El and Satchmo. Jones and Diana. He missed the crowded city and the smells and the noises and the sounds. He missed his old apartment and the view that accompanied it. He even missed walking Bugsy. Right now though, he wishes he was missing Peter. But he can't miss Peter, because Peter won't go away.

“I thought you wanted me to review these files.”

“I do.”

“Maybe you should go home to your wife?”

“Oh no. I'm much more interested in staying here.”

“You're not moving in Burke.”

“Neal.”

And there's the tone, there's the face. The one that implies to Neal that the conversation Peter is trying to pursue is for Neal's own good. They had that conversation the first day back in New York, when he was held in county lockup after he gave up his information on Kinsler and Gibbs. Peter had come for him the next day. He'd gotten his job and his sentence back. He'd gotten the anklet back.

He's doing everything that they ask of him. Peter kept Tim's name out of it. All they knew in New York was that Victor Moreau had lived in San Francisco for the greater part of Neal's absence. They'd never spoke of his relationship with Tim. Neal has no doubt that Peter knows that the relationship is still intact. They talk on the phone, they text and they email. He's even tried skyping for a change. Not his favorite thing but it means he at least gets to see Tim while they're talking.

As often as Neal steals Peter's phone, he's sure Peter steals his. And that's only fair. But that doesn't mean that Neal is willing to talk about his boyfriend. The feds have enough of his life in their hands, they don't need that too.

In all fairness, he knows that he should be thankful Tim wasn't nabbed as well. Any other agent would have arrested Neal and taken Tim down for harboring a fugitive. Peter hasn't revealed his sources, just how he tracked Neal down and nobody else asked questions. After all, Peter was the one who got him before. Of course he could find him again.

Peter's getting chummy with his second source though. He and Stewart apparently get along swimmingly and he's been taking in more games when he can. Neal's declined all invitations to go with. There's only one player that he wants to see.

Neal stares at the file in front of him, clenches his jaw like it will make Peter go away and then he just deflates. It's never worked before. He flips the file shut and sits back in his chair, looking up at Peter. Judging from Peter's expression, he must look pretty miserable. “ _What_?”

“You ever going to tell me about it?”

“Why do you want to know?”

“When it comes to you, I always want to know. _How_ , Neal? How on earth did you end up shacked up with a two time Cy Young award winner?”

Neal freezes. He'd been so close, so close to maybe talking about this. Now he's so angry that it's taking everything he has not to physically shove Peter out the door. “... shacked up? Fuck you Peter.”

“Neal, I'm sorry.”

“You should be. I came back. I gave you information. And yeah, you could have sent me back to prison, go ahead and lord that over my head. You can take everything else, my freedom and my time. I can't stop. But I don't want to hear you talk about him again. I won't let you take that away, won't let you cheapen it.” Neal speaks as calmly as he can. The only thing keeping him from shouting is his white knuckled grip on the table. When he finally can unclench his jaw, he looks up. “I think you should leave now.”

Peter looks apologetic, regretful, like he wants to take it back. Neal doesn't care. Maybe he's overreacting but it's hard enough to be without the person he loves without someone else cheapening the relationship with coarse words. As soon as the door closes, Neal grabs a bottle and pours himself a glass of wine. It's the first of many.

***

Neal is a professional. Relatively. He arrives on time and he does the work he's asked to do. He goofs off a little bit. He really doesn't think that he behaves any worse than Jones or Diana ever do. The most trouble he gets into occurs outside the office on a case. They don't have anything big right now, mostly mortgage fraud, like the files Peter had used as an excuse to come over last night.

This morning, for the first time since his sentence started, he comes in with a hangover. Not the mild kind that anyone might have, little bit of a headache but nothing plenty of water and a few aspiring won't take care of. This is a full on screw you of a hangover. He's nauseated, his eyes are a little bloodshot and he's ghost pale. He wishes this was a job where he could wear sunglasses. Then again, with his rejection of small rules, he probably could get away with it.

He doesn't really feel like goofing off. He flirts with his favorite baby agent because she's sweet and she brings him cookies and that ticks Peter off but mostly he behaves himself. He fills his mug with coffee and takes his cookies, then he parks himself at his desk and tackles the stack of mortgage fraud. It's nice, in its own way. Boring, he can lose himself in the numbers while he tries to find a pattern and see what doesn't match up.

Behaving isn't without its rewards. He declines lunch and opts to work and eat more cookies. In turn, Jones brings him a lobster roll. He eats at his desk, turns in three different cases to Jones complete with notes. He clocks out on the dot and makes a mental list of what he needs to pick up from the store to make a decent dinner. When El texts and invites him over, he says no. She's waiting for him in the plaza and he doesn't get a choice because 90% of the time he just can't tell her no.

He parks himself at the island and entertains Satchmo, drinks wine and tries to pretend that Peter isn't there. A bit childish, he knows, but it makes Peter disappear upstairs for a while to clean up for dinner. El cranes her head, no doubt listening for the floor creak that means Peter's in the bathroom. When she hears it, she puts the knife she's been chopping vegetables with down.

“He's not trying to be nosy. He wants to know but it's just that he's interested in your life. You know he's always been interested in everything about you. I think at one point he even had a little bit of a crush on you.” She says and Neal nods. He's always known about that but Peter's not his type and that would have been a disaster. Married guys are always a no.

“Up to that point, I was starting to talk. It's just the way that he said it. Peter always think that I'm playing around. He doesn't get that love isn't a game.”

“So you love him.” 

Peter. Might as well deal with it.

“Yes, I love him.” Neal answers, contriving to add as much venom to his voice as he can. “He knows who I am and he still cared about me. He's sweet. You would think as successful as he is, as rich as he is, he might think he was something special but he's just like any other person. Doing his best to get by. There was nothing about him that didn't do something for me.”

“Then why'd you come back to New York?” Peter asks, and he sounds genuinely curious. Neal sighs.

“Because if he was caught harboring a fugitive, it would destroy his career. He loves the show in a way that he'll never love me. I'm okay with that. We all have our passions. We'd never be okay if I didn't come back and finish what I started.”

“You think he'll wait for you?”

“I know he will.”

Peter looks sly, peering into his beer bottle. “Y'know, they're playing the Mets soon. Maybe I should take you out of your radius for a few hours. You could introduce us.”

“You just want to rage against the Mets.” Neal answers, but it's amiable and he can smile at Peter again, bumping his shoulder. “Yeah, guess I'll introduce you. If we can steal him away from June.”

“He's met June?”

“He came looking for her after... Okay, this requires explanation. I met him during spring training. I was in Arizona, I was bored, I went to a club. It should have just been a one night stand but I woke up... he was beautiful. I couldn't leave. So I made coffee and let his dog out. It snowballed. I think it was about a month when I told him the truth. He wasn't pleased. I didn't see him for a while.” Neal shakes his head. He still can't think of that without it hurting. “Decided it didn't matter, if I didn't go for it I'd never know if he really cared. Went to a game then I went to his place... moved in with him and just stayed there.”

“That doesn't explain June.”

Neal blinks. Oh, right. “They had a series against the Mets. He hunted June down down to find out... to find out if I was just conning him. She loves him, thinks he's adorable.”

“I'm still trying to process you with a baseball player.”

“Now's a good time to bring up your bromance with Chris Stewart.”

“He's a nice guy.”

“Uh huh. Elizabeth?”

Elizabeth says nothing, just eyes both of them before pointing at the dining table. Play time is over boys, dinner time. Message received.


End file.
